a thin-legged spider traipsed across
her newly painted wall
seemingly unaware of the work
she asked him why he was there
on her newly painted wall
he said, “I still need to get home”
so she smashed him
and got paint on her hand
and ruined her newly painted wall
but on her own terms

vomit your guts
wallow in the stench
ropes pull you to the ground
as you attempt to clean
even water tastes bad
no appetite
so it gets worse
the worst day in a long time

bellow at the ground
ask it why it loves you so
gently float away

to find people
go where the people are

light gray sky
tufts of it
seep to the ground
what an odd day

the sky is a glowing light blue-gray color
the last remnants of sunshine are bouncing
off the backs of the mountains surrounding the valley
there are two paths in opposite directions
tentative bright white lights of lover pairs go West
they shine and dance around each other
arms-length red lights of lover pairs go East
they commute and signal amongst the crowd
the muted reds and dazzling whites watch the other
pitying their counterparts for lack of insight
solemn and solitary yellow lights stand guard over all
all of them glimmer with intrinsic liveliness of varying degrees
the sky is now a transparent dark blue in front of endless black

a bad poem
is hard to write
it’s forced
unimaginative
and rushed